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8:48 p.m. - December 19, 2002
Regurgitate and pass the plate
This afternoon in a moment of weakness I thought I'd respond to Spec's entreaty, to give him another chance as a friend; it would be a lie to say that I don't want him. The difference between wanting and whether he is good for me is too great and I over-analyze when I should be paying closer attention to my driving, especially on a stormy day. As much as I want him I know he exacts a heavy price and I'm not willing to pay, but the whisper says being patient while he works through his own demons may pay off, just as he was patient with my own. I don't know. I've never been adept at weighing pros and cons, finding the balance between sticking it out to find the pot of gold and the time waiting takes out of your self-worth. Maybe I should remind myself that even the pot of gold disappears after a few hours of bliss. Yes, fixate on that.

I never thought myself to be a romantic.


Had some time to kill on the assignment today and read my book, becoming engrossed to the point of shouting No! at a crucial juncture between revenge and catharsis, making people look my way bemusedly. It is a powerful book and the debate it fuels over expiation and expiration in all senses has occupied my thoughts. This book is a weeks' worth of dessert and I'm chagrined that I allowed the Oprah's Book Club stamp dissuade me from picking it up what--about two years ago?

Also had time to book-shop and I picked up a few things to keep my eyes busy for a while. Realized I'm selfish when it comes to books, thinking of myself and what I want, how the urgency strikes, Read me! Read me! and I grasp with the same shaky hands as a deprived heroin addict. I'm thinking I read entirely too much and am re-evaluating priorities.


I'm trying not to think of Spec and refusing to draw parallels between adolescent behavior and my own.

Good night.


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